Why He Did It
by Sumei1
Summary: [Character Analysis] James and Lily Potter died because a friend betrayed them. A friend they trusted, Peter Pettigrew. You've heard the story, but what is his? Disclaimer: all characters and themes that are related and originated from Harry Potter are owned by J.K Rowling.
1. Part I: Conversion

**Chapter 1**

**Peter's perspective**

I turned around, heart beating in my throat. This was it.

He was coming. I stumbled on my feet, trying to get away from him, but to no avail. He was like a dementor, black cloak flapping about as his glided towards me ominously. My foot slipped on wet pavement, eliciting a squeak from myself.

I found myself crying. It was a snotty mess and if I survived past that afternoon, I was going to have a heck of a time trying to convince Lily to wash it (I had never been good at laundry). I looked in a puddle from an earlier shower in a break to try regain my breath. It wasn't a very pretty picture—bloodshot eyes, shiny cheeks and saliva stained chin. Crying wasn't exactly beautiful for me.

But I wasn't crying out of fear. Well, at least not completely (I wouldn't lie to not feeling the sweat collecting on my palms). Instead, out of sorrow. No more pranking, no more seeing my friends, no more of the Order (who had become just as close as friends as the Marauders)—I'd never see Harry grow up. I was good as dead. James and Sirius had always been the fighters. The tears trickled down my face, warm and wet. I hoped death wouldn't hurt. Perhaps Voldemort would be merciful (I almost laughed at the thought—this morning there had been reports of at least five more muggles being killed by 'Death Eaters').

I stumbled on the gravel road and I looked around into those piercing red eyes. They held no mercy, no pity, no anything. Only death.

I knew there would be no escape with a sly joke like at Hogwarts with the teachers. Mixed in with adrenaline and fear, I was a jittering mess—dirty blond hair filled with dirt and grime, small cuts littering my face, blue eyes tired but alert . . . . This was the life I'd signed up for when I joined the Order.

My eyes remained captivated by Voldemort's red ones. They showed the depth of his lust for power. It was unfathomably deep: he left a trail of death and destruction in his wake, all just to get what he wanted. It was almost childish.

Yes, I chided myself, Voldemort is _exactly _like a child. Well, if it was a child on steroids that was given a shotgun to play with along with a heavy ambition to rule the world—then yes, the white snake man was like a child. I shook my head, shut up and focus on not dying, I told myself cynically.

He would do anything to get power. He wasn't above torturing or killing to get what he wanted. There was a sort of almost _tantalizing _madness to it. But worrying if I would make the Death Eater interview list was the least of my worries. There were more pressing issues—such as if Voldemort was a shoot-then-ask-questions sort of person.

Where were James, Sirius, and Remus when you needed them? My eyes darted around nervously, looking for someone, or _something_ to help me escape, or perhaps at least lengthen my life span.

We'd been teamed as a four-man squad to get information on Voldemort, but there had been an information leak—someone knew we were had and told_ him_. Perhaps the fact that _he _had come so fast to prevent the task's success should've been a clear indicator of how important it was, but really, I was pretty intent on not being snake food. But the small Gryffindor voice in me yelled that I couldn't leave my friends—I couldn't! The Marauders were closer than brothers, and we stuck together.

He cackled evilly, red eyes alive with the pleasure of seeing my fear. "_Crucio!_" I almost laughed upon having a split-second image of the man in front of me as a baby waving a stick, but as soon as the spell slammed into me with a burst of red, a scream tore from my throat. It was like a hot knife slipping through my skull and scalding everything it touched. It was unimaginable that something could hurt that much, yet here I was, wailing like a child as white hot pain lanced through my head. When the croaking whisper of "stop I'll help you" exited my lips unwillingly (though not as coherently as it's typed), I knew right then what I was.

I was a weak coward. I was the true baby.

Voldemort looked at me in triumph, sadistic glee shining in his scarlet irises. There I realized there was no such thing as mercy from the murderer in front of me.

"Ahh, so you're the weak one?" he hissed in his scaly voice. There was almost _disappointment _in his voice, and I felt irritation at the sense of failure. Even I wasn't good enough for the dark side. Of course even the evilest wizard of this age would've wanted James or Sirius over weak little Peter. Bitterness stung my mouth.

"It hurts . . . doesn't it?" Voldemort spoke softly. Hearing no protest, he continued, "Being the underdog in the group. Always having to follow your friends' whims, laughing when they laugh, doing whatever they want to do . . . ." He paused for his words to sink in. "I know how that feels," He sighed sympathetically, taking in my shocked face as agreement. "Don't you say? _Peter Pettigrew_?"

Part of me agreed. When was the last time James or Sirius had ever asked, 'what do _you_ want to do Peter?' They had always forced me to take sides between the two whenever they had argued (usually over petty topics too), and the other always guilt-tripped me. Remus usually managed to stop their fights, but more than not, I found myself trying to make an excuse on why I couldn't get involved.

"Peter . . . they were suppressing your talent—your skills! They were afraid that you'd pass them, so they kept you close so you couldn't become strong!" Excitement danced in his red eyes—the look of a hunter who knows his prey is ensnared, but I was too blinded by anger to think why. If only I had. Perhaps I could've been stronger.

* * *

Cold anticipation crept through Voldemort. The pale man didn't need the legilimency again to tell that Peter's will was crumbling. Soon he would betray his friends. He would join the dark side. Not that he'd be much use, but he was a rat animigus. Who knew when Voldemort might need a small spy or hand-servant to serve him?

And if not, Voldemort had always wanted a fur drink cozy. And rat fur seemed quite exotic.

Voldemort could feel all Peter's thoughts of loyalty to his friends succumbing to anger and hate. The Dark Lord suppressed a smirk—as if the flimsy boy could ever be strong enough to resist _him_.

Peter's thoughts had a milky texture to them, a sort of inborne weakness and flexibility, always bending under pressure. Manipulation—it could twist and change someone's complete mindset. It never failed. Peter though, was easy to influence. His will was fragile and his mind innocent—believing every slippery lie that made its way out of the snake's mouth.

"Join me Peter, together you can help me rule the wizarding world, and rid of scum and mudbloods. Only pure-bloods will rule, and I daresay you are a mighty pure-blood!" Voldemort called, rasping voice giving no indication to the lie.

Voldemort held out his pale white hand for him to reach and waited. He would ether say yes or no. Not that it would be very pleasant for him if he said no (that was the rat cozy option).

* * *

**Peter's perspective**

A small bead of sweat trickled down my forehead as I stared into his red eyes. They almost seemed to glow in the deserted street as evening rolled by. Voldemort had an air of confidence around him just like James and Sirius. Like he could do anything he set his mind to. I could never be like that. James . . . Sirius . . . Remus . . . could I really betray my best friends? After everything we'd been through together?

But I was a follower, not a leader. And Voldemort, like James and Sirius, was a leader. I had never been the strong one.

Seconds passed, but they felt like hours. Tension steamed in the hot air, even as the sun drifted lower in the sky. The power struggle in my head was making it throb, and I was torn—power or my friends? What was the right thing to do? I watched Voldemort's pale hand stretch out to me invitingly.

"There is no good or bad, there is only _power_. Come and seize it with me, Peter," He coaxed persuasively. "Good and bad are very relative words—say a father steals money for his starving children. To the police, he is bad, but to his children, he is their _hero_."

Hero. Something I'd never be.

Or could I?

Fear coursed through me once more (fear—there was always fear), what would this guy do to me if I refused? Fire danced in Voldemort's eyes, the eyes of a madman—a sociopath. He was crazy and power-mad. He'd do anything for it. But at the same time, he _understood_. I wasn't the _bad guy _here! I was just protecting James, Sirius, and Remus! I nodded to myself, yes, that's what I was doing. If I didn't step in Voldemort would kill them too—even little Harry!

I nodded once more, as if sealing those thoughts as fact in my mind and forgetting the previous thoughts of the chase. I was no _coward_—I was a _hero_, protecting my friends even when they didn't know!

But strangely, I wasn't completely terrified by the prospect of taking the hand that was offered to me by my enemy. Power—wasn't that the reason I'd joined the Marauders? For power right? The Marauders at school had been _somebodies,_ but now in the big world I was a nobody again. It was time to join the somebodies again.

I grasped Voldemort's pale hand and shook it gently, careful not to anger him. "I will—Dark Lord."

A crooked small, almost distinguishable, smile escaped from Voldemort—no, the Dark Lord's—mouth. "Peter, meet me here again on the 16th of July," he commanded. I nodded mutely. After all, that's what I was good at. Following orders.

In a dark shadow of billowing robes and magic, Voldemort apparated away from the quiet street, which was empty other than my relieved breathing.

But there was something else inside me now. It burning deep and dark, the fiery seed of anger that Voldemort had planted within me.

And it burned at my friends.

* * *

"Peter!" We got separated when there was the Death Eater ambush, are you okay?" Remus asked, dark amber eyes filled with concern. His soft voice, once soft with uncertainty, was stronger now. More confident.

"Yeah, there was a larger amount of Death Eaters than most raids are—like they were gathered by something," Sirius added, brushing his curly shoulder-length hair out of his face. We were at the Order's HQ, and were on the way to reporting to Dumbledore what had happened. "D'you guys think someone could've leaked info?"

"Yeah—I-I'm good. I just had a run in with a bunch of Death Eaters," I stuttered, "I, uh, took care of them." Apparently I stuttered a lot, because they didn't comment or start screaming: you liar! I wasn't really sure if that was a good thing.

"Peter are you okay?" Remus frowned upon noticing the sticky remains of tears on my face.

"Uh, I'm fi—" I stumbled over the words, heartened as well as irritated by the werewolf's concern.

"Well, at least we all came out alive," James smiled with his cocky grin, interrupting me. The burning inside me grew. He put his hand over Lily's shoulder and she leaned on him. Her laugh was like a spring of water in the desert—cool and refreshing, quenching some of the fire. But it didn't die yet.

The door at the end of the hallway opened and Kingsly stepped out. He nodded at the five of us, "Albus is ready to see you guys," He spoke in his deep reassuring voice.

We sat down in the soft chairs lined in front of the desk and leaned forward. James stood up first: gone was the young boy at Hogwarts who had (secretly) cried from homesickness—this was a man who had a budding family. A soldier who was willing to die for his friends and comrades. My throat tightened at the thought of what I had done. I hadn't leaked the information, but I had joined the Dark Lord.

This time it was me who squashed the seed of anger back down into the earth. Without fear locking my mind in a vise, I already felt the deep implications of what I had done in my adrenaline-fueled state.

"There was a bug sir. Someone found out about this plan and told Voldemort. Death Eaters arrived at the scene, but there was something strange about it. Usually there's about twelve of them, but this time there was at least twenty. Perhaps more—we were split up in the process. Ether he's getting confident or someone or something was calling them there. We were a four man squad—the Death Eaters did not need so many men," James reported, fists clenched.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, I guessed as much. I apologize for putting you in so much danger—especially you, James. You have a wife and a child now, you should have protection." James nodded, and looked at Lily who was staring at Dumbledore intently.

"What do you suggest sir?" Lily asked, emerald eyes serious. I felt more guilt inside, Harry James Potter. James's son. Would me joining the Dark Lord cause his death? I prayed not. Despite any grudges against James I may have, his son carried none of it.

"Hide. Use the fidelius charm and make your secret keeper someone you trust," Dumbledore in turn, looked at me, Sirius, and Remus, trusting us to not tell anyone else of the information.

"Sirius, mate, will you be secret keeper?" James asked automatically. I didn't know why I felt jealous, it was common knowledge that James and Sirius were like brothers. Maybe, even though I knew it, it still hurt for Sirius to be the first to be chosen without a second glance at Remus or I.

"Sure!" Sirius said, fist-bumping James. "Now, guys, let's go out for ice-cream to celebrate our living-ness!" He grinned.

"Diagon Alley? That ice-cream place?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "I've gotta meet up with Angela later today, but later this week?"

"Are you seriously going to be riding that ridiculous motorcycle?" Lily groaned exasperated. "Forget Death Eaters, what's going to kill you is that bike!"

"Of course I am Sirius!" Sirius said indigently. Everyone moaned at the joke. "So . . . on the 16th this weekend?" he proposed. Everyone agreed and Dumbledore watched the exchange quietly with interlocked fingers, smiling.

My lips twitched upwards. My friends, we were closer than anything . . . suddenly thoughts of the Dark Lord crept up on me. He'd said to go back to that place again on the 16th. And so came on the question of who would most likely kill me if I didn't come: my friends or Voldemort?

"Uh, guys? I-I can't go on the 16th. Sorry, I just realized . . . something came up." I finished lamely.

Lily put a hand on my should and smiled sympathetically, "It's okay Peter, we understand." I pretended not to notice her subtly elbowing James.

Their faces were full of disappointment, but James forced on a smile, "We'll save you a scoop mate." I nodded sadly, dread creeping up on me. If they were going to die, at least I'd want some good memories with them.

* * *

The 16th grew closer and closer and then the day was here.

I pulled on a jacket, and walked outside, shivering already aprehensively. I'd been staying at the Potters and I waved good-bye to them as they apparated to Diagon Alley. I wanted to follow them, but duties called. I had already had ten days or so to fantasize all the ways the Dark Lord could kill me if he wished. Though on the side I had discovered when the Dark Lord had looked into my eyes, I was eager to see what sort of power I could achieve.

I walked to the street, which still had its gloomy aura around. Metal fences had flecks of paint chipped off and rust in others. The pavement was cracked and in dire need of replacement. After observing the scenery in a brighter light, there was a soft whoosh of cloaks.

I looked around to see I was surrounded by black, hooded figures. Death Eaters. At the center of them, right in front of me, was their master. _My _master.

"Peter Pettigrew . . . walk with me, and join my ranks forever," he crooned.

I walked behind him slowly, and I knew, there would be no turning back.

Maybe I wasn't a hero. Maybe I wasn't even a coward.

I was just me. Peter Pettigrew.

And maybe, I was okay with that.

* * *

**Rewrite Done 8/1/2015**


	2. Part II: Plans

**Chapter 2**

**Peter's Perspective**

Voldemort walked swiftly and held out his hand. "We will be apparating away to somewhere . . . remote . . . "

In the rat part of my mind, the animalistic, self-preserving side, I quietly thought 'remote as in no one will find my body'.

I felt the tug of apparating in my gut, and I struggled to keep my breakfast in my stomach. Apparating always did that with me, which resulted in Sirius and James often making fun of my nauseous face. My fists clenched, Sirius . . . James . . . did they really deserve my sympathies?

Sharp pain on my cheek brought me out of my thoughts. "I _said_, your arm, Peter?" Voldemort said, almost looking disgusted at the thought of me touching him. His pale hand was stretched out, and a silver knife was in his other hand. A crowd of Death Eaters surrounded me and there was no way out.

I hesitantly placed my arm in his hand. I tried to still my goosebumps, but no avail. I hoped he would not notice my uncertainty. He raised the blade, and began to carve a light pattern on my upper forearm. The pain was mild, but I couldn't distinguish the shape that the Dark Lord was carving, for warm blood was covering it. I'd have to clean that later.

Finally, the Dark Lord finished and tossed the blade aside. He hissed something in parseltongue and his pet snake came forward. "You know what to do Nagini." The large green-brown molted snake slithered towards me, her dark blue eyes sparkled with an unnatural intelligence that gave me a feeling rival to her master.

She reared up and bared her fangs. With a graceful dip, she hovered over the cut and dripped some venom in. Excruciating pain raced up from my arm and I screamed. A scaly, yet soft rope was wrapped around my arm and one of the Death Eaters in the circle stepped forward and picked me up. Face covered by a silver skull mask, I couldn't tell who it is. But I heard the man behind it laugh a hollow, cold laugh. "Peter Pettigrew, you of all people I did not expect to see here. Clutching to your friends so much . . . when did you find the urge to crawl to power?" his tone showed he wasn't asking a question.

"Severus?" I whispered in shock.

With a flurry of black robes, we apparated once more, my words and any reply from the Death Eater were swept away in the wind and we arrived at a large ominous-looking manor. Malfoy Manor.

The Dark Lord looked back at me. "That is your calling card. It will bind you to me." He nodded at the place where he had cut a shape into my arm. It had healed up quickly and I realized his snake must've been on my arm, speeding up the healing process. The blood was wiped away, and in its place was a black symbol that resembled a tattoo almost.

It was a skull with a snake coming out of the mouth and around. My breakfast nearly was lost when I saw the snake's body shake, seeming almost alive.

"That is the dark mark Peter Pettigrew. Welcome to the dark side," Voldemort sneered, no sign of his earlier 'kindness' showed.

Any of my misconceptions were ripped apart with that. Voldemort had lied to me and now, with me bound to him psychically, there was no need for him to keep it up. I felt a wail bubbling in my throat. I was _no _hero. There had never been a chance of me protecting my friends. And now I would be used to help kill them.

I had betrayed my friends. There were no more lies to shelter me from the truth.

But I was okay with the truth, the way it hurt.

Because I _deserved _it.

* * *

Later that night, I was lying in bed.

I shoved up my sleeve and gritted my teeth. How could have I been so stupid to fall for his tricks? I had actually been convinced I hated James, Sirius, and Remus, no—not just that I _hated _them, but that I, in my foolish joining of the Death Eaters, would be _protecting _them. My friends. My fellow marauders—my _brothers_! I had also put little Harry in danger. James could handle himself, but the thought of harming his innocent child—my hatred flared, but this time at myself.

The fidileus charm worked excellently and the Potter's home was safe. A small loophole had been created by Lily so Remus and I could apparate in, but we didn't know where the house was, or any information that could be fatal for them in case if the Dark Lord caught us. Perfect.

Looking back, his understanding facade seemed fake, but I had fallen for it and now I was stuck in this huge mess. The dark mark was irremovable, and it even stayed on your skin after death. I considered telling Dumbledore and asking if I could spy for the Order, but I realized telling him the recent events of my life would be hard. Almost impossible.

Scratch that. It _was_ impossible.

"I can't. I can't tell them. They'll hate me," I muttered, blinking away angry tears. I had to be strong. I may have gotten into this mess, but I had to stand up and do some work myself. I had to, that at least I could do for my friends.

"Peter? Dinner's ready!" Lily called through the door.

"I'll be down soon!" I yelled back, shoving down my sleeve.

It was going to be a quiet dinner.

* * *

**Two months later . . . .**

It was late September and autumn was rolling in.

It was morning and I was eating breakfast when searing pain came from my arm. I rushed to finish breakfast and resisted the urge to run upstairs. When I got upstairs I sighed with relief. Lily was a skilled witch who's observations could show if someone was injured. Luckily she hadn't noticed anything. If she had, I would've just had to lie more. And frankly, I didn't know if I could at this point.

I dressed in a jacket and I let myself enter the pain of the dark mark. A place flickered in my mind and I knew where it was. It was a graveyard nearby Hogwarts in the hills (they had always contemplated going there in one of their monthly escapees but had never planned enough to actually do so). I walked outside the house and apparated.

I landed in the grass, which was damp from morning dew. The Dark Lord walked up to me and peered into my blue eyes. "They've been careful to make sure you don't know their location," he hissed softly, tone giving nothing away. He was always carefully controlled, albeit some spurts of rage. For all I knew, he wasn't frustrated at all and was instead wondering when the next episode of the drama he was watching came out (hey planning to take over the world couldn't take up _all _your time—what's a man gonna do when he's on break?).

"Sorry?" I asked. "What?"

"The Potters." The Dark Lord said. "Their son must die." His voice was surprisingly neutral for a man (could he even be considered a human anymore?) who had just issued a death threat on a one-year old baby.

My eyes widened, "Why!?" The question escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

"Neither can live while the other survives," He said as if that explained everything.

"I won't do it!" I snarled. I had to be strong for James and Sirius! For Remus, Lily, and also Harry. They didn't know it, but they were depending on me to be strong and protect them for once. And this time it wouldn't be some messed up fantasy induced by Voldemort—I'd do it with my own strength—

"Little insolent child! _Crucio_!"

Pain filled my mind again. My mind blanked and suddenly it was just _now_. And now hurt a lot. Pain was everything. It was horrible. I heard a scream and I was fairly sure it was my own.

Baring his teeth in what could be called a smile if you were blind, the Dark Lord strolled up to me, "Now. Listen carefully _Peter."_

_"_You will become their secret keeper. Tell me where they live, and then, later, they will die." The Dark Lord's eyes glowed with blood lust. "I will be the survivor! Only I can live forever!"

I was fairly positive the bloke was insane.

* * *

"Peter, can we speak to you about something?" James asked, hand entwined with Lily's.

"Sure," I said, walking with them. It was actually nice. I hadn't remembered ever being this relaxing with them since Voldemort had cornered me into their ranks. We were in the park, red, yellow, and orange leaves falling around us. The autumn air smelled like pumpkin and spices—Halloween just around the corner.

"Peter," Lily smiled sweetly.

"Ye—" I froze as her voice cut through my voice.

"_You killed us!_" She screeched.

"_I trusted you! You betrayed us Peter!_" James snarled, looking ready to punch me.

"_You killed my husband, my son, and me! You unforgivable"—_

"Stop!" I cried, pleading with their faces as they blurred away. "No—I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

The scene changed and this time I was walking in the Potter's home, down the hallway. At the end of the hall, there was an open door. My heart beat faster, and I ran forward, worry propelling me. I ran and entered James and Lily's bedroom and called their names.

"James? Lily?!" I called. I turned around and horror crept up upon me.

The said couple was on the ground, together, forever in a hug. They were dead. And it was my fault. Their faces imprinted in my head. Their faces of betrayal and disappointment . . . .

I snapped up in bed, breathing ragged. It was a dream. It was only a dream. Sticky sweat suffocated me and I rushed to the window. I sighed with relief as the cold air hit me, and laid back down in bed, the soft blankets comforting me. But the guilt . . . it was killing me. I knew that eventually that scene would become a reality. They would die. And it _would_ be my fault. No one else's.

I don't think I'd ever be okay with that.

* * *

I walked downstairs in a gloom, and James was laughing and attempting to feed Harry. There were already multi-colored stains on his shirt (which was ironically white) showing his failed attempts. The stubborn look in Harry's green eyes reminded me of Lily, refusing James's numerous date requests.

"Here comes the broom-stick!" James said cheerfully.

Harry firmly closed his mouth and stared at his dad with his vivid green eyes. Even though he was only one, I swore he was thinking 'don't you dare'.

"Blimey, I feel like your glaring at me Lily whenever he does that. His eyes are yours," James laughed, and threw his arm around her.

Noticing me, Lily smiled, "Hello Peter. Eggs and bacon are for breakfast, feel free to serve yourself some. They're on the counter." I nodded, hoping they didn't notice my depression. It hurt so much to think this home of happiness and joy would soon be a gray pile rubble, just like other homes that had seen the effects of war.

They were treating me so nice . . . they didn't realize I was the reason they'd be dead.

"Something wrong Pete?" James asked as I sat down quietly with my food. I had always been shy, possibly more than Remus, but never just plain silent.

This was my chance to do the Dark Lord's bidding. I bit my lip nervously, _James . . . Lily . . . Harry . . . please forgive me_. "I-I just feel that you trust Sirius m-more than me or R-Remus," I stuttered.

James's eyes widened, understanding my words. My lies. Perhaps that was how I felt before, but now I just wanted to shake him and yell 'the Dark Lord wants to murder you run!'. But the man would know it was me. And to my disgust, I still couldn't sell myself out.

James sighed, "I'm sorry Pete . . . . I've never meant to—it's just kind of happened y'know? Here's what—how can I make it up to you?"

Victory. He was in my trap. But, I felt no pleasure in manipulating someone whom I considered my brother. I paused to make it seem like I was in deep thought, "How about, could you make me secret keeper."

There. I said it. Now I waited patiently for his reply. I wondered if he'd accept. I quietly hoped he'd say no, but the Dark Lord didn't just _take _no's.

James looked pleasantly surprised, "Didn't know you were into that kinda thing! Sure Peter, you're up for the challenge?" James grinned.

"Y-yeah," I spit out the words, the guilt in me infesting.

"Mmh, okay. How to do this . . . " James tapped his chin. "Oi, my Lily-flower!"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Oh, yes my _dearest_ husband?" she grinned.

"How do we change secret keeper? Pete wants to give it a go," James said, gesturing to my trembling form.

I cursed silently in my head. I wanted to scream.

"Sure, come into the study boys," Lily said, picking up Harry and leading the way.

"We have a _study_?" James joked. "How can I _live _here?" Harry stuck out his tongue at his father and Lily laughed. "Okay, of _course _you'll be an amazing student like your mom, right Harry?" James smiled at his son.

"In here, _children_," Lily said, sitting Harry down on the couch.

"We've been downgraded from 'boys' to 'children'?" James frowned childishly.

"Since you have an attitude like that, yes," Lily nodded. She glanced at me with concern, "Peter are you okay? You've been . . . quiet."

"I'm fine . . . just apprehensive about what it'll be like," I tried pulling off an uncaring shrug.

James nodded sympathetically, "It's alright, I felt that way when I was made Head Boy—I still don't know how I got that. Dumbledore sure is crazy."

"_Children _shush," Lily slapped James playfully. "Alright, all I have to do is alter the Fidelius charm . . . . James, get Sirius to floo over here, he needs to be present as the current secret keeper."

"Rodger!" James fake-saluted, and jogged out of the study.

When he was gone, Lily turned to me, smiling mischievously. "I didn't realize you were into tattoos Peter," she nodded to the bump in my shirt on my arm where the dark mark was. It had become more raised up lately, almost mimicking the Dark Lord's anxiousness to kill his 'destined enemy' (who happened to be my best friend's child, and also only one year old).

"O-oh," I struggled to come up with an excuse. "Life's all about the experience, right?" Like killing your best friends.

"Suppose so. I won't tell James, I'm not letting him get one, and if he finds out about that he'll go all crazy on me," Lily winked. Well, at least that was taken care of.

A crackling _whoosh_ came from the living room in the fire place, and Sirius walked into the study, clad in his black leather jacket and motorcycle goggles on his forehead. "Hullo! The great Sirius Orion Black is here!" He threw his arms up as if awaiting applause.

"Nice to see you too, Sirius," Lily groaned.

"Ok, so you wanna be the secret keeper?" Sirius asked me.

"Y-Yeah."

"Okay, it's really easy, all you got to remember is tell _no one_ about their location. That's your only rule—_tell no one," _Sirius grinned. "That'll be easy right Pete?"

I nodded and the guilt in me doubled. Why were these people so _dang _trusting? The one rule of a secret keeper, I had broken already, and the transfer hadn't even happened yet.

Lily opened her mouth and she casted the transfer spell. Her wand danced and green sparks danced from the tip gently. They settled on Sirius and seemed to float onto me, seemingly seeping into my skin.

Once it was finished, knowledge flowed into my head, and I knew _exactly_ where the Potters were living. Their location, previously fogged up by magic, was clear to me: _Godric's Hollow_. A sinking feeling entered my gut as I thought about the Dark Lord. The Potters trusted me to be their secret keeper, and the next moment, I'd turned around and told Voldemort. Some friend I was. I didn't deserve to be friends with them.

The dark mark on my arm tingled maliciously, and it almost felt as if Nagini was still there, thick muscular coils wrapped around my arm with enough strength to snap it if she pleased (or if her _master _ordered it so). The Dark Lord beckoned.

"I-I gotta go," I muttered guiltily. Before they could ask questions I ran outside and apparated. It would all be over soon.

My feet slammed into the ground and I was surrounded by darkness. I whipped around, seeing nobody. Even the rat in me couldn't sense anyone.

But then, suddenly the veil was lifted and I could feel _him_. I felt a foreign mind tearing through mine to find the information. Icy claws grasped the safe the charm had placed around the location and ripped it to shreds like paper. _No! _I yelled inside, but he pushed me aside like a fence gate: I was born to be pushed aside because I wasn't strong enough. I never would be. I felt the Dark Lord's pleasure in my mind. He stopped the legilimency and exited my mind.

"Soon Peter. Soon I will _kill_."

And then I was alone.

* * *

**Rewrite Done 8/2/2015**


	3. In Which Halloween 1981 is not fun

**Yay! More reviews and follows! Thanks you! I won't ramble onto you guys, but every review means a lot, so big thanks to those people that did! Okay, I'll stop rambling—onto the story!**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Peter's perspective**

The thirty-first of October was creeping up, and I mentally was counting down the days until the night. The night when my reoccurring nightmares would become reality. James and Lily Potter would be dead.

I sat on my bed with a dull expression. The meeting with the Dark Lord kept popping up in my mind.

"_Halloween . . . yes, while they're partying and celebrating—they will die," the Dark Lord sneered, making an unpleasant grin, which showed off his yellow teeth. "By eliminating their child, I will be free from the prophecy's binds. Then no one will be able to kill me."_

_"Y-yes, my lord," I was bowed down and was unable to see his violent smile, but my voice quivered slightly._

_"Here is your task Peter, and do well to make sure you do not fail," the Dark Lord said with contempt. "Halloween is a full moon, so that half-breed mutt you called a friend won't be able to do anything." I winced at his words, calling Remus a 'half-breed mutt' was unnecessary in my point of view. But in his, he probably saw it crucial to show how prejudiced werewolves were. Like I didn't know already._

_"Instead, you will be tasked on distracting the Black. He needs to stay away from the Potters," the Dark Lord sneered._

_"Yes sir," I said coldly, trying to show that I was not in approval of what he was doing._

_"Remember the date Peter. And if you value life, do not disappoint," and with that, the Dark Lord apparated away, leaving me in the dark, cold, alley. I had a feeling, after this, death might not be such a bad thing. At least I would be with James and Lily._

I looked at my calendar again, October 26, 1981. Five more days until the Dark Lord struck. Flopping on my bed, I thought about how to get Sirius away from the Potters. Ever since I had become secret keeper, he'd come every day to check that the Potters weren't blown up or something. He obviously thought I wasn't capable of defending them—and he was correct, considering I had sold them out to the Dark Lord. I decided on showing him a 'secret hideout' that would actually be an alleyway, where I would trap him. Sirius loved hideouts—he wouldn't be able to resist himself.

From my bedroom, I could hear Lily laughing from something James had said. The laughter rang from the kitchen all the way up to my room.

I couldn't face them today, not without seeing them dead on the ground like in my dreams. I was being consumed by guilt—if they saw me, I felt like they'd know immediately what I'd done, like they could see into my soul.

I could tell someone . . . everything that had happened. I considered this option, until I reached a pitiful conclusion. I _was_ a coward. There was no way I could've mustered up the strength to tell someone what had happened. I was started to wonder why the sorting hat had put me in Gryffindor. _Peter, you have a hard path in front of you, but remember what's important, and you'll be good_, the sorting hat had told me. Did it mean this? Could the sorting hat actually tell the future?

No, I dismissed the thought. It could just see into my soul and mind, and probably saw the turmoil in my head about my loyalties. I'd been a difficult decision for it. I wasn't brave, but I wasn't cold-hearted and mean. I was open-minded, but cunning enough to save my skin. I had traits from all the houses, but strangely enough, the sorting hat must've decided my resolve to stick with my friends was the strongest. Too bad it hadn't been enough to save me from the Dark Lord's clutches.

* * *

"Ah, tomorrows All Hallow's Eve!" James said cheerfully.

"Mate, no _one_ calls it that anymore, it's Halloween," Sirius rolled his eyes, and clapped his hand on James's shoulder.

"Are we trick-or-treating?" James asked Lily.

"Please, you just want the candy," Lily scoffed, "Anyways, no. Harry's not old enough."

I remained quiet, a feeling of dread settling over me. It was coming. Soon. This would probably be the last time I saw James and Lily laugh together. The last time I saw them talk, smile, _live_. They would be dead the next time I saw them, twenty feet under the ground in black coffins.

There was a crack and a exhausted-looking Remus stumbled on the porch-steps. "Hello," he said tiredly, black circles under his eyes and he seemed to be tired beyond human capability. His shabby robes were patched, and I wondered why he didn't buy new ones. Money from graduating Hogwarts would've gotten him plenty to buy new ones.

"Remus! Sit down! Don't push yourself, tomorrows the full moon," Lily rushed forward, concern in her eyes.

"I wanted to see you guys, since I won't be there to celebrate Halloween," he said. Wise move Remus. This is the last time you'll see them alive, I thought sadly.

"Well, dinner's ready!" Lily said, and she whipped out her wand. She waved it and a pot of tomato soup ladled itself out into five bowls. Lily enchanted the knife to cut the bread and she passed out the food to everyone.

Small talk was exchanged and soon night fell. Sirius yawned and stretched out, "Ahh! Well, I best be going now. See you guys tomorrow—" I stood up.

"Um . . . Sirius, can I show you this hideout I found before? I'll show you guys later, but it's really small—only enough for two people," I said quickly as I saw James about to protest.

Sirius nodded, "Sure mate. When should we meet?" I racked my head for a time. The Dark Lord would strike at around eight to ten . . . .

"Six in the afternoon is good," I said.

"Kay, well bye guys," Sirius said. He walked outside and the familiar roar of his motorcycle rang out before it faded into the distance.

Remus stood up as well, "Yes. I should rest up for tomorrow night. See you guys later, thanks for the dinner," he added to Lily.

With a pop, he apparated away.

I helped clean up the dishes with Lily, and I couldn't help but notice how at peace she looked. She was truly happy with James as her husband, Harry as her son, and Sirius and Remus as her friends. I couldn't bring myself to call myself her friend. More of like her murderer.

* * *

"Hey Sirius," I nodded at him. "Let's go."

He followed behind me with a relaxed form, but I could tell in his pocket, his hand was clutching his wand. Lately, death eater ambushes were becoming common and we had to be careful.

I showed him down an alleyway and he walked behind me. I waited and checked my watch . . . almost just about time.

"Pete? What's going on?" Sirius asked as I was waiting along without a second glance at him. "Where's the hideout—"

It was time—_forgive me Sirius_. I glanced at the full moon and I knew in my heart I was a coward. I would do anything to stop the pain of the cruciatus curse. Even sell out my best friends. The next time I saw Sirius or Remus, they would hate me. All because of my fear. I raised my voice and set my plan in motion.

"SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT! THEY WERE YOUR FRIENDS! YOU SOLD JAMES AND LILY OUT TO VOLDEMORT!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. I knew that I had gotten the muggles' attention.

"What are you talking—" Sirius's eyes widened as he realized the truth. "PETER! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!" he howled. He was falling right for my trap. He aim his wand at me and I raised my own to the sky.

I sent up the signal flare that the Order would recognize. It was the signal to send out reinforcements and get the aurors.

Almost immediately, wizards apparated in and right when Sirius's curse fired I managed a weak grin. "_Diffindo_," I murmured. The spell cut off my finger—they needed proof that I was 'dead', then I quietly transformed into a rat in the chaos. Scurrying quickly I wen't down the storm-drain, though I could tell what would happen. The aurors would lock up Sirius for killing me and 'selling out the Potters to Voldemort' because after they searched the muggles' memory, they would believe it whole-heartily.

I'm sorry Sirius. I'm sorry James . . . Lily . . . .

A searing pain in my arm informed me that something had happened. Something to the Dark Lord. It could only mean one thing—his powers had diminished. Thinking through the pain, I considered the possible scenarios. Did I really hope that it could be true? Had James and Lily bested the Dark Lord?

I knew it was plausible, James and Lily were very capable wizards, not to mention that when one is fighting for love, they can become considerably stronger. I tried to fight for love, but it didn't work. Barely containing my hope that James and Lily weren't dead, I apparated out of the storm-drain, and I just caught the glimpse of Sirius's livid face as he was lead to azkaban.

* * *

**Well, _that_ was fun to write! Please put in the reviews what you think, should I continue with some clips from Peter's life after this (which will include him finding out James and Lily are dead) or should I just do one finishing chapter about Peter mopping around in his guilt?**


	4. In Which Coping (kinda) happens

**I just realized in my last chapter I went a little AU because Sirius went to the destroyed house of the Potters, gave Hagrid his motorcycle, then he got framed for the murder afterwords. So if any readers noticed that—good job! I'm not going to really talk about the motorcycle so it doesn't really affect the fanfiction (my lame excuse for not wanting to change up chapter 5 for the sole sake of that one problem). Okay, that done—enjoy the fic!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Peter's perspective**

I stumbled over the dust and debris that had settled around the house.

"No . . . " I let the words fall from my mouth. It didn't mater anymore—the Dark Lord was dead, taking my two of my best friends with him. I looked at the wreckage: the house had been blown apart partially—probably by a powerfully rebounding curse, and half of the house seemed to have caved in. I pounded up the stairs to see anything of Lily and James—right now their corpses would've been fine to see. I just wanted to see _them_. I searched around and I heard a small cry.

It was a child's wail—Harry! I ran towards the crying, desperate to find something that would remind me of James and Lily. I saw the little boy in the remains of his crib. He had tears in his eyes and his green eyes seemed to ask: _why? Why did they have to die? _I looked down and I saw Lily sprawled on the ground, her hair falling around her gracefully. She had a serene peace about her that was only brought in death.

"Lily," I whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I wept pitifully, all the while, Harry stared at me unblinkingly.

Now . . . where was James? I walked out of the bedroom, and looked around. Then I saw it—under a thin pile of rubble, James was visible. I brushed away the pieces of plaster that had fallen from the house. James was in the hallway . . . he'd probably tried to save Lily and buy her some time, I guessed, knowing how reckless James was to defend the people he cared about. I stood up and I decided someone else would find and take care of Harry—I didn't think I could stand the guilt if I saw a living copy of James walking around with Lily's vivid green eyes silently asking me why his parents died. I wouldn't be able to answer the question.

Stumbling ungracefully down the stairs, I remembered when James was attempting to do washing the laundry the muggle-way and had unceremoniously tripped onto his face when he was going down the stairs. Luckily his fall had been broken by the basket which had been overflowing with clothes. I smiled sadly as I remembered more memories from the house that was now destroyed. Because of me. That one thought kept nagging at me—it was _my_ fault and no one else's that James and Lily were dead. Harry had been lucky that he'd survived.

I glanced at the charred fireplace and I was hit by another wave of nostalgia. Sirius had used floo powder to get in and he had bumped his head on the top of the fireplace where he managed to make the little bronze whale paper-weight fall onto his head. He'd gotten up immediately after, assuring Lily that he was fine and 'had a very thick skull'.

So many memories to haunt me forever. So many . . . .

I looked around and pushed the Potters to the back of my mind. I needed to hide—after all, I was supposed to be dead right now. Where could I hide? Being a rat animigus had it's advantages, but I wasn't exactly eager to live in the sewers with the rest of the rats for the rest of my life. I also needed to be able to access a newspaper to check up on Sirius.

I recalled at the Hogwarts express, on the day I met James, Sirius, and Remus, there was a boy who was looking around for his pet rat . . . . Not that I was particularly pleased with my choice, it was better than my original solution of becoming a sewer rat. "Pet shop it is," I muttered under my breath. Somehow I wasn't eager to be stroked and petted like an animal for the rest of my life . . . .

* * *

**A few months later . . . **

**Normal perspective**

"As a congratulations for starting Hogwarts, we got you a pet!" Arthur Weasly told his son cheerfully, ignoring the fact they were too poor to buy a proper owl.

Molly Weasly burst into fresh tears and handed Percy his pet—a rat. "W-what will you name him?" she asked, voice quivering at the thought of her child growing up.

"Well, he isn't . . . the _cleanest_," Percy was careful to stay away from the words 'best' or 'prettiest', knowing it would only upset everyone. "But, that can be fixed up. He's a bit shabby but I like it!" Percy grinned. He starred in interest at the scab that covered the rat's toe that had been cut off somehow.

Molly and Arthur smiled in relief that their son wasn't in complete hatred of the old rat.

"He has a battle-scar covering his toe!" He announced. "I'm going to name him Scabbers—because of his _scab—_get it?" he said cheerfully. The rat squeaked, and squirmed around in the boy's tight grip._  
_

Bill walked down the stairs, "Hey mum, dad," he nodded at Arthur. Bill had recently graduated from Hogwarts and he was excited for his little brother. "Erm, where's Charlie?" he asked.

"He's probably still reading about dragons. Honestly, we get him a old book about dragons and suddenly it's his obsession!" Molly huffed in a way that let the kid know she was only joking. Somehow only mothers seemed to be able to pull off the tone.

"Well, that's what he wants to be when he finishes figuring out requirements and such," Bill said. He was only a few years older than Charlie, but he could understand what it was like to have a obsession over something . . . like how the boys at Hogwarts fawned over girls right? "Nice rat Percy. What's his name?"

"Scabbers," Percy was pleased to have the attention on him again.

"He looks a bit old, how old is he?" Bill inspected the rat with interest. The rat squeaked in discomfort and unknowing to the Weasly's it was very annoyed at being examined like a . . . like a lab rat. He had a feeling this was going to be a _long_ term.

* * *

**Five years later, Hogwarts express . . .**

"Hi, my name's Ron Weasly," the red head said nervously. He had good reason to be jittery too—_Harry Potter was sitting right in front of him__._

_"_I'm Harry Potter," the other boy said, his emerald green eyes were scanning everything with great interest.

"I-is it true? That you lived with muggles?" Ron asked hesitantly, knowing many wizards would take this to offense.

"Yeah," Harry said. His eyes found a bulged lump in Ron's pocket. "What's that?"

To the rat's protest, Scabbers—or Peter—was brought out. He opened an eye blearily, and was surprised to see non-other than Harry Potter himself. They boy who's parents he had been responsible for killing . . . . The rat squeaked guiltily, but as it was a rat, neither Harry nor Ron could understand its whims.

"He's a old fat rat, used to be Percy's but now he's head boy and I got . . . this," Ron picked up Scabbers gingerly. The rat had a plump belly and it resumed sleeping, seeing there was no reason to be awake.

"Umm . . . " a small voice came from outside the compartment. It was a chubby short boy with nervous eyes, the rat looked at him and thought he looked a lot like someone from school . . . oh yes, Frank and Alice Longbottom. Another couple who had been victims of the Dark Lord. The rat avoided eye-contact with the boy, more guilt searing through him. Would he have to deal with seeing all the Dark Lord's victims' children? He didn't think he could stand that.

"H-have any of you see a toad?" the boy made hand-gestures to show the toad was a plump one. "Oh, r-right, I'm Neville Longbottom," the boy stuttered. The rat sighed nostalgically, the boy was just like him. To Ron though, it looked like Scabbers was just going into a deeper stage of sleep.

"All he does it sleep . . ." Ron groaned, looking down at Scabbers. Little did he know that his rat was listening carefully to the boys.

"No, we haven't though we'll tell you if we find him," Harry spoke up and Neville nodded in thanks. He closed the sliding glass door and headed onto the next compartment. Settling back in their seats, Harry and Ron pulled out a game of exploding snap . . . .

* * *

**Two years later . . .**

**Peter's perspective **

I woke up suddenly from the nightmare and I shook my furry head blearily. I opened my eyes in shock—why was I in a cage?! Then I got my bearings and I remembered my monotonous life—I was a pet rat to a Weasly boy . . . Ron, and I was currently hiding from the death eaters and my ex-friends—both whom wanted to kill me. Starting the day with that positive thought, I stretched sleepily and remembered to check the newspaper.

I scurried downstairs to look at the paper. It had been about twelve years since the night, but it still kept sneaking into my nightmares, even though I tried as hard as I could to forget Lily and James. It didn't help that I was plagued with seeing a doppelganger of James every time Harry came to Ron's house—which was unfortunately, quite a lot.

I was quietly pleased though, that Harry had such good friends in Hermione and Ron, as it was my fault he didn't have loving parents to care for him. Hopefully his tale wouldn't end with such tragedy as mine. I peered at the newspaper and I felt shock course through me, almost making me lose concentration and break out of my animigus form.

But it couldn't be! Right when I'd been starting to accept my life as I knew it _he_ had to come back in my life! Now he would also probably want to kill me for what I did as well. Betraying him like I did. I snuck another look at the paper and hoped I'd seen the headline incorrectly. Naturally, as my luck went, I'd read it perfectly correct: SIRIUS BLACK, MASS-MURDERER HAS ESCAPED FROM AZKABAN!

A shiver went down my little rat spine, and I knew, he was coming for me. I just wondered if I would have to guts to give myself over.


	5. In Which Peter is Guilty

**So this is the last chapter of this story, thank you people who did read and review! It was fun to write and I hope I made you guys pity Peter a bit for a while instead of our usual die-you-little-traitor! attitude. Enjoy!**

**PS. I've changed somethings about the train ride (I know Neville, Ginny, and Luna were supposed to be in compartment) but I decided to make it similar more to the movie than the book.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Peter's perspective**

Just as the Hogwart's Express pulled out of Kings Cross, Molly Weasly yanked me out of my hiding spot and I heard her mutter furious words—something about cleaning bedrooms, and more responsible. "Ron! Your rat!"

I groaned as she handed me to Ron. I'd been hoping to hide in his room for the school year—then Sirius couldn't find me. Or kill me. Not to mention that Hermione had gotten a cat. Had there been no consideration for the poor rat?

Now safety inside the compartment, conversation started up again, and I settled down on Ron's jacket. Until I noticed _him_. Why was he here? It had been twelve years, but I would recognize the tired face anywhere. After all, I'd spent seven years of my life in a dorm with him. But that didn't explain why he was here . . . unless if Dumbledore . . . . Remus Lupin—the last time I had seen him he'd been much younger, but when you're a werewolf normal outward aging does not apply. He looked much older than his age, and he had more graying hairs than before. His clothes were still shabby and worn, so I guessed he hadn't been able to keep a job.

The orange fluffy cat crouched and hopped onto the seat next to me while I was staring at my old friend. It snarled and I could understand the gist of the he was saying: _rat! Rat! Food!_ Having no intention of being eaten by a fat orange cat, I buried myself deeper into Ron's jacket.

"Get your bloody cat away from Scabbers!" Ron growled at Hermione, and if I could, I would've stuck my tongue out at a ruffled-looking Crookshanks. He spat angrily, and curled up into a ball next to Hermione.

"Excuse me Ron? It's in his nature! He's a _cat_!" Hermione argued, careful to keep her voice down to not wake Remus. It was the weekend after the full moon . . . he was probably resting up.

"Anything from the cart dears?" I had never been more glad to see the plump witch.

"Yes . . ." Harry stood up and grabbed a handfuls of different sweets . . . chocolate frogs, Bertie Bott's every flavor beans, pumpkin pasties, a cauldron cake or two, fizzing whizzbees, acid pops, licorice snaps, treacle fudge, and other sweets. He dumped them onto the seat between him and Ron. Hermione reached over and grabbed a pumpkin pasty.

"What post do you think he's filling?" Ron nodded towards Remus, while viciously biting off the top of a licorice snap.

"Defense against the dark arts," Hermoine said in her isn't-it-obvious voice. "It's the only place that isn't full after . . . Lockheart." She blushed slightly, she had been caught up by his glamour and he'd turned out to be no, not a coward, nor a fraud—but _both_ of those and a whole lot of other things.

After a while of chatting, the train suddenly stopped and I woke up suddenly. Surly it wasn't at Hogwarts yet? I remembered quite clearly the ride being much longer than this. Slowly, one by one, the lights of the train started to flicker, then they failed altogether. A eerie chill spread through the train and I saw that Remus had been roused from the sudden chill. Good, something was coming aboard and I doubted Harry, Hermione, or Ron would be able to handle it. I couldn't due to the fact everyone thought I was dead, and I didn't have a wand. I didn't think Ron would take nicely to me changing into a human then asking for his wand.

Then I saw it. Dark cloak billowing in the non-existent wind, the dementor gently opened the door, long fingers clacking against the glass. Now would be a good time to wake up fully Remus I wanted to yell as I felt the chill get to me, though it took slightly longer than if I was in my normal human form. My eyes widened and I squeaked in concern as Harry collapsed and Remus was abruptly jolted up. I was slammed into a memory as the dementor sucked the all the happy memories from me.

_"So Harry, care to explain why you woke me up at midnight?" Ron woke up blearily._

_"Ron! You have to see this—it's this mirror and I dunno, I think it shows your family! I saw my mum, and dad, and their family!" Harry said eagerly. I woke up at his voice, mirror that showed family? The only mirror I knew that was similar was the Mirror of Erised, which showed what someone wanted to see the most. Last I remembered, Dumbledore had placed it in Hogwarts for safekeeping._

_They hid under the invisibility cloak and set off. Being a former marauder that had traveled under that same invisibility cloak, I knew all the tricks on how to use it. I followed them by scent and when they reached the room, I realized it was the same mirror. Guilt stabbed through me as I saw Harry pointing to the mirror which would show Ron not Harry's wish, but his own._

_"See? That's my mum—and that's my dad over there . . ." Harry's voice was filled with longing. I wept on the inside—the only reason why this was the thing he wanted the most in the world was because of me._

_"What are you talking about mate? You're pointing at the house cup . . ." _

I was pulled out of the memory as I saw Remus had woken up and had his wand out. He must've cast a patronus. Thanks Remus, you couldn't have come earlier so I didn't have to relieve that? I seethed grumpily in my head.

Quickly Remus turned around and stared at Harry who was getting up. "Are you all right Harry?" he asked as he broke a chocolate bar in pieces. Even at Hogwarts he always seemed to have a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate on him. He handed out the pieces that Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally ate.

"Well, excuse me, but I must see the conductor . . . " Remus turned and walked out of the compartment.

"Did you hear who did?" Harry asked groggily.

"Did what mate?" Ron asked confused.

"Y'know, who screamed?" Harry repeated.

"Harry," Hermione pulled a concerned face. "No one screamed."

"But . . . I heard. A woman . . . screaming," Harry said slowly. I shivered, _a dementor will take out all your good feelings and only leave you with your worst memories_, I remembered from a textbook from long ago. Had he remembered? The night? When James and Lily were murdered? I'm sorry Harry.

* * *

**Months later . . .**

He was after me and he was close. I could tell. I wriggled out of Ron's grasp and I scurried away in the grass, hopeful for a quick get-away into the Forbidden Forest.

"Scabbbers!" Ron tackled me, but was careful not to squash my thin rat frame. He turned around only to see . . . .

"Ron!" Hermione yelled with worry pulsing through her words.

"S-stay back!" Ron whimpered, clutching me tightly in one hand, he pointed behind them with the other. "Harry—Hermione—it's the Grim!" he yelled. That was the worst piece of garbage I had ever heard before, I was just freaked out because I _knew_ it was Sirius. And he was set to kill.

The giant black dog with matted fur leaped over Harry and Hermione with ease, and he crunched down on Ron's leg. Ron yelped in pain and he was trying not to let tears fall. He dragged us down the Whomping Willow's tunnel down to the shrieking dog let go of Ron and sat down in the corner.

Just as I had guessed, the change between a dog and a man started and soon Sirius was standing in the corner where the dog was. He wore tattered azkaban clothes, the tattoos he had gotten at Hogwarts to infuriate his mother were shown on his chest still. His curly black hair was filled with grim and was down to his shoulders and his beard had grown wild without shaving for twelve years straight. His grey eyes were livid and he yelled maniacally,"Come _out_ Peter! Come out and _play_!" No thank you I wanted to say.

Just then, I heard footsteps in the hall and Harry and Hermione dashed into the room.

"No! Harry—it's," Ron winced through the pain,"I-it's a trap! He's an animigus!"

Harry turned around, and his eyes filled with horror. "Sirius Black." I knew Harry expected for Sirius to try kill him, but it wasn't Harry who Sirius was after.

Sirius grinned, showing off is yellow teeth. "Don't worry, only one person will die tonight." I shivered—he meant _me_.

"Then it will be you!" Harry lunged forward and began to strangle Sirius.

"Are you going to kill me Harry?" He laughed.

"You killed _my_ parents!" Harry growled while Sirius continued to laugh.

"_Expelleramus!" _Remus burst through the door and Harry was thrown off of Sirius. "So . . . it's true?" He asked Sirius in a weary voice, like he was too tired to be angry.

Sirius nodded, laughter subsided.

"Forgive me for thinking you sold them out," Remus apologized.

"As long as you forgive me for thinking you were the spy," Sirius agreed.

"_I trusted you_!" Hermione yelled suddenly. Her voice was one of someone who is betrayed. "You've been helping him all along!" she pointed at Sirius. "Don't trust him Harry, he wants you dead and . . . _he's a werewolf_!"

Remus looked shocked, but immediately recomposed himself. "Only one out of two Hermione. I just realized he was innocent this night, I most definitely do not want Harry dead . . . but I do not deny, I am a werewolf." He looked at Hermione with interest, "How long have you known?"

"Since Professor Snape's essay," Hermione said. "But, I had been building up—you were gone only on full moons, and your boggart was a full moon as well."

"Well, you really are the brightest witch of your age," Remus chuckled. I cringed when I remembered Remus laughing and telling that to Lily when she had discovered his condition. Lily . . . James . . . I shook my head quickly to rid myself of my depressive thoughts. No need to get more depressed than I already was.

Remus finally got a hysterical Hermione, a panicking Ron, and a freaked out Harry all to calm down, he and Sirius began to tell their stories. As Remus and Sirius explained what had really happened I felt the guilt in me settle more firmly down. Sure, I had known I was a traitor and a killer, but hearing it come out of my best friends' mouths made me truly realize what I had done.

"So is that why Snape hates you so much?" Hermione asked Remus.

"Yes, yes it is," Snape stepped out of no where, smirking in a not-very-nice way. "I see the dementors will be looking forward to two victims tonight. A werewolf and a prisoner." His mouth curled in disgust. He tossed Harry's invisibility cloak to the side. I shuddered, no matter if they wanted to kill me and I knew I probably deserved it, no one could deserve a dementor's kiss. Except, maybe me, I considered.

"Snivillius!" Sirius snarled, he wound up his fist, ready to punch Snape in the face.

Snape muttered a curse before Sirius could reach him, and Sirius was tied up by a rope. Just as that happened, Harry stepped forward, "_Stupify!_" Snape flew back, almost gracefully—until the part where he smashed into the closet. He flopped down, unconscious.

"W-we attacked a teacher!" Hermione squeaked, horrified.

"Down to the point! Peter—come out you _coward_!" Sirius yelled._  
_

"But . . . Peter Pettigrew is dead," Harry said.

"Didn't you listen? Peter is alive!" Sirius laughed eagerly, like a child playing with fire.

"Your rat has been alive for—?" Remus asked Ron.

"Um," Before Ron could finish Sirius broke in.

"Twelve years! A particularly long time for a normal old rat!" Sirius snarled, glaring at Scabbers—glaring at me. I felt his stare look into my soul, and I knew that he knew, I was Peter Pettigrew.

"Hand me the rat!" Sirius held out his hand expectantly.

"Your a bloody psychopath!" Ron gasped, hugging me tighter to his chest. For once in my life, I didn't mind being squashed because personally, I wasn't to fond of being hit by curses.

"If he's a normal rat, it won't hurt him at all," Remus said coolly.

"F-fine," Ron said. I wanted to scream: _traitor_! But really, I couldn't speak—I'd betrayed my friends to the Dark Lord. He handed me into Sirius's hands.

Sirius dropped me on the table for casting the spell at, but if they thought I would stay still, they were wrong. Doing a non-verbal spell, Sirius and Remus shot bolts of green magic at me, and I knew if even one grazed me, I was done for. Not literally, but then the truth would be out. Then Sirius would definitely kill me. I leaped around but finally the chase was over.

I felt the odd sensation of turning back into a human, and I was a bit sore and cramped up after being in my animigus form for twelve years. I crouched in the corner until Sirius dragged me out and pointed his wand at me.

"R-Remus, S-Sirius—my friends!" I stuttered. Looked like my cowardly nature just wouldn't let me die quietly.

"You sold Lily and James out to Voldemort! You deserve to die! I at least want to commit the murder I was placed in azkaban for twelve years for!" Sirius snarled. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were staring at me in shock, like they never saw it coming.

"I'm i-innocent!" I cried stuttering.

"I don't see why an innocent man would hide in the form of a rat for twelve years then," Remus said coolly, leaning against the table.

"I didn't mean to! The Dark Lord has powers you would've never suspected!" Well. That was partially true—my headache always got worse when I thought about the cruciatus curse the Dark Lord loved to use.

"I would've died!" Sirius yelled. That was true, other than James, he was the only other one who would recklessly throw himself into danger just to save someone he cared about. "I would've died before I betrayed my friends!"

"P-please don't let them kill me! I was a good pet! A good rat!" I pleaded to Ron. Now I was reduced to a pleading, sniveling wretch. My brain couldn't seem to control my body as I continued to beg and weep. I really was a coward I realized sadly.

"Clever girl! Y-you wouldn't let them take me?!" I hoped. Hermione gave me a disgusted look and she shoved me off her robes.

I finally made my way over to Harry, "You look so much like James, Harry," That was my trump card. I didn't want to involve James, while I was still having nightmares about killing him and Lily. I shouldn't have done it, but after twelve years as a rat, initial animal survival instincts kicked in. "James wouldn't want me to die—he would've forgiven me!" I yelped as Sirius dragged me away.

"You have no right to say that to Harry!" Sirius snarled in my ear. Don't I know. I didn't say that lightly Sirius.

Remus and Sirius pointed their wands, and just as I waited for the _avada kedavra_ curse to hit me, it didn't. And I saw Harry standing in front of me. "Stop."

Remus looked confused, "Harry, this man killed—"

"I know what he did," Harry cut in. "But I just don't think my dad would want his two best friends to become murderers."

* * *

I felt angry and disappointed. I deserved to die. Why did Harry stop them. At least I would've felt satisfied if I had gotten killed then.

I looked up at the sky and I saw the stars were out already. They sparkled gently—so pretty, yet in reality they were cold and distant, most where light-years upon light-years away. Then I saw the orb, the beautiful white full moon was my chance to escape.

I was currently shackled to everyone else, but the moon was bright and I could escape—unless if I was killed by a werewolf that was.

The moon shone once more, out of the shadow of the clouds, and Sirius's eyes snapped up.

"Run!" He yelled at Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

But they couldn't—they were all connected to the shackles. Remus started to shake and he dropped the wand he had previously been aiming at my head. He slowly grew taller and his skeletal frame reshaped into a wolf's. He yelled and fur grew around his body. He expanded into a giant wolf, and broke free of the manacle easily, tearing it away from all of us, freeing us.

Amber eyes stared into grey as Sirius turned into his animigus form, a giant black dog.

I considered if I should stay and help as usually James was needed to control Remus, but I decided not to. Sirius could hold on his own. I hoped. I transformed into a rat just as the werewolf reared its head and howled to the moon. I really hoped that Sirius would be able to subside Remus—I didn't need to feel guilty that I had ran away, leaving James's son to become a werewolf.

Grass rustled as I made my escape, though I personally wished I could just dig my own grave and just die. I'm sorry Lily, James, Harry, Remus, Sirius . . . I did not deserve to know guys as great as you.

**The End**

* * *

**So, that's the end of this story. Thank you guys for reading, reviewing, and following/favoriting this story! Sorry if the ending stunk, I'm horrible at them (only good at cliffhangers really), please tell me what you thought in the reviews! **


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